


Xander's Last Notebook

by projectiondelivery



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Brief Description of Blood, Gen, John has to deal with it in front of all peip, M/M, Sad, Xander is dead, last time I killed John this time I'll kill Xander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectiondelivery/pseuds/projectiondelivery
Summary: “Today.” He swallowed thickly. “Our Unit experienced an unprecedented event. We reckon that this job is dangerous and that every mission has its risks. Nonetheless, our headquarters are supposed to be safe and protected. Hours ago, this was proven to be incorrect. As you all know, the base was invaded. We lost trainees, field agents, researchers.” His voice failed. John took a moment to recompose himself and looked down to the pile of notebooks he had gathered from the lab.-----also known as:how to hold a meeting after discovering your husband is dead
Relationships: Xander Lee/John McNamara
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Xander's Last Notebook

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> This was my first ever hatchetfield fic, written in late october, and once again, it's sad.

John McNamara trusted his improvisation skills. Which was partially why he hadn’t prepared to enter the room filled with agents. 

He was - also - running on automatic, the buzzing in his head from the blood rush helped to clog his thoughts. 

Schaffer had offered to deal with it in his name, but the General had declined. It was part of the job, after all. 

_ “I’ll be in the corner if you require assistance.” _ , she had assured him. 

He hoped he wouldn’t need it. 

Conversations started to die down when he entered the room, the voices becoming rushed whispers and only ceasing completely at the sound of the many books John had in his arms falling on the table.

The soldiers grew quiet, each and every one turning their gazes to the General.

John took a deep breath and lifted his head.

“Today.” He swallowed thickly. “Our Unit experienced an unprecedented event. We reckon that this job is dangerous and that every mission has its risks. Nonetheless, our headquarters are supposed to be safe and protected. Hours ago, this was proven to be incorrect. As you all know, the base was invaded. We lost trainees, field agents, researchers.” His voice failed. John took a moment to recompose himself and looked down to the pile of notebooks he had gathered from the lab.

To his dismay, one of the notebooks had fallen open, a pen rolling from it and hitting John’s hand. Once his eyes landed on the page, his breathing faltered.

It seemed to be the last written page of the notebook. As every other one of  _ his _ books, it had drawings and arrows, rushed writing mixed with very calm and calculated letters. It would’ve become a nostalgic piece for John, if it wasn’t for the smudges of blood that accompanied the ink, with two phrases scribbled completely out of the lines, in very big letters:

_ “Find Wilbur. _

_ I love you.  _

_ Xx” _

The last X didn’t get finished. There was only one line of it, that gradually became lighter as it went down to the end of the page. It would never get crossed over.

A bloody fingerprint decorated the edge of the page. John could picture Xander’s weak hands trying to hold the notebook to write the message before succumbing to the floor.

He hadn’t seen that when he was at the lab. John had just grabbed all he could carry to go through later when he was alone. He didn’t plan to have to deal with it in front of all the soldiers.

Yet, here he was, on a stand, alone, being watched by more than 200 pairs of eyes that expected him to stare them down and talk about his husband’s death like it was just another casualty, delivering an action plan right away.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Schaffer start to approach the stand, carefully watching John’s reaction. 

John clenched his hands in fists, and to his own surprise, felt Xander’s dog tags press against his palm. He stared at it for a second, before bringing it close to his chest and starting to rub the beads with his thumb.

Schaffer backed away slowly.

John lifted his head and stared at the first row of soldiers.

“We need to locate Colonel Wilbur Cross  _ immediately _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! If you want, come visit me at whatsmylaneagain on tumblr! :D


End file.
